


I solemnly swear…

by stjarna



Series: AoS Advent 2016 [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS Advent 2016, All mistakes are my own, Bus Kids - Freeform, Don't get excited This story actually has nothing to do with Harry Potter, Don't judge me I don't know why that was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw the prompt, F/M, Funny (I hope), Gen, It was just the only (dumb) pun I could think of, Short, Swearing, Toddler, parenting, prompt: bells, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: The trials and tribulations of parents (and the godmother) of a toddler.Written for Day 8 of the AOS advent 2016 organized by the wonderful theclaravoyant on Tumblr.Prompt: Bells





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Fits within [The Ghosts No One Knew universe](http://archiveofourown.org/series/562259)]
> 
> Seriously, I don't know why this was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw the prompt.

“Okay,” Jemma says and sits down next to Fitz, briefly slapping her hands onto the dining room table. “Daisy, thanks for coming. As Peggy’s godmother and very influential person in her life, I wanted to include you in this conversation.”

“Everything okay with her?” Daisy asks slightly concerned.

“Yes,” Jemma reassures her.” Yes. It’s not a _terribly_ alarming matter, but nonetheless something that I believe we should address right away.”

“Oh-kay,” Daisy says, looking at Fitz to see if he has more answers.

He raises his hands and shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t look at me. I’m as clueless as you are.”

Jemma shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “Peggy is three and her linguistic proficiency and vocabulary is expanding rapidly, and of course she is influenced by what she hears in her surroundings and… well… long story short, I overheard Peggy say—” She pauses and lets out a disgruntled puff of air. “Shit.”

Daisy tries to suppress a snort of laughter.

“Damn it, Daisy!” Fitz blurts out.

“ _Leopold Fitz_ ,” Jemma scolds him. “Did you just hear yourself? I don’t think Daisy alone is to blame for Peggy’s new lexicon.”

Fitz sighs. “Alright, so what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, the _ideal_ solution would obviously be not to swear at all,” Jemma suggests. “ _But_ , since I’m not sure I can teach you two old dogs new tricks—”

“Umm, excuse _me_ ,” Daisy chimes in. “I’m _younger_ than you, _mom_!”

“Yeah,” Fitz adds. “And I’m a mere _twenty-three_ days older than you. Old dogs? Seriously Simmons!”

“Oh, shush now,” Jemma waves them off. “I was _going_ to suggest we try to replace expletives with more _innocent_ terms as a less radical option”

“Such as—?” Fitz asks, dragging out the last word to encourage his wife to provide specific examples.

“Well, I think we could try ‘Shoot’” Jemma suggests.

“Shoot’s not that innocent,” Fitz counters.

“Well, better than ‘shit’ don’t you think?” she replies.

“Simmons! Language!” Daisy chimes in, grinning widely.

“Haha, very funny,” Jemma says, rolling her eyes at Daisy.

“Fine. Okay. I’ll try ‘shoot,’” Daisy concurs.

“Thank you,” Jemma replies. “Next. I believe that ‘dang it’ would be a slight improvement over ‘damn it.’ And maybe we could all agree on ‘What the fudge?’ to replace even cruder language.”

“I feel like I’m getting lamer by the minute,” Daisy mutters, wrinkling her forehead.

Jemma continues, ignoring Daisy’s remark. “Well, and then there’s the issue of _Fitz’s_ favorite—”

“Oh, what the hell now?” Fitz cuts her off.

“ _That_ ,” Jemma notes annoyed, gesturing at her husband. “ _Exactly_ that!”

“Oh,” Fitz mumbles apologetically.

“Yes, exactly. Oh!” Jemma replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

For a moment, the three friends sit in silence.

“Bell?” Fitz blurts out eventually.

“What?” Jemma asks confused.

“What the bell?” Fitz clarifies. “It would sort of be in line with the fudge idea.”

Daisy begins to chuckle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What?” Fitz asks slightly irritated.

“Nothing,” Daisy replies, still trying to get her giggle-fit under control. “Nothing.” She takes a deep breath. “You’ll see… And I _hope_ I’ll be here to witness it.”

She grins mischievously, which seems to hit a nerve with Fitz.

“Oh, bloody bell, Dai—” he exclaims and stops mid-word.

“Wow,” Daisy says. “That was faster than I expected.”

“Ummm, yeah… so,” Fitz stutters. “Bell’s not gonna work I guess.”

“I don’t think ‘ _bell_ ’ is the problem in that case,” Jemma counters. “More the nightmare-inducing first part.”

“Right. Bloody,” Fitz says. “That’ll have to go now, won’t it?” He pauses, his eyes wandering from left to right and back, deeply in thought. “Bloody hell, that’s not an easy one. Oh shite, I did it again. Fuck! This is—”

“ ** _LEOPOLD FITZ_** ,” Jemma exclaims, trying to make him stop.

He immediately does. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, slumping his shoulders.

“You should be setting up a swear jar,” Daisy suggests, feeling like her grin may have permanently imprinted itself onto her face. “Fitz would pay for Monkeybutt’s college within _a week_!”

“I’ll pay for her college anyways, ‘cause we’re her parents, Miss Know-it-all,” Fitz replies. “And don’t act as if _you_ won’t have to pay a small fortune yourself.”

“What the fudge, man! I’ll show you that _this_ old dog _can_ learn some new tricks,” Daisy says, pointing at herself.

“Alright,” Jemma chimes in, sighing deeply. “When you two are done with your little verbal sparring match, could we, please, get back to the list?”

“You made an actual list?” Fitz asks.

“Of course I did!” Jemma replies matter-of-factly. “It’s right here,” she clarifies, tapping against her temple with her index and middle finger. “And I’m adding to it on the go. We should get back to ‘bloody bell’ for starters.”

Fitz nervously scratches the back of his neck. “Buddy bell?” he suggests. “Study bell? Muddy bell?”

“Well, I suppose ‘muddy bell’ makes the most sense,” Jemma remarks.

“ _None_ of this makes any sense, if you ask me,” Daisy chimes in.

“‘Muddy bell’ would be an _adjective_ followed by _noun_ , thus a similar construct to ‘bloody hell,’” Jemma explains.

“Oh, right, when you say it like _that_ ,” Daisy replies sarcastically.

“Mommy, can I get some water?” a quiet and sleepy voice says from the hallway.

Jemma clutches her hands to her chest. “Bloody hell!” she shrieks, startled by the unexpected interruption.

Fitz and Daisy break down laughing, while Jemma covers her mouth with both hands, before smiling shyly.

“I’ll get you some water, Monkeybutt,” Fitz says to his daughter, who’s holding on to her favorite sock-puppet. He gets up and puts his hand on Jemma’s shoulder in passing. “Muddy bell, Jemma, I think you’re right. Maybe us old dogs should just try to not swear at all,” he teases her.

“Shush,” she whispers back, but can’t suppress a smile.


End file.
